“Really? What’s that?”
He shrugged. “We don’t have anything the Reapers want this time.”
I wanted to point out that that wasn’t true—not by a long shot. The Reapers had already tried to get their hands on Vic, as well as the Swords of Ruslan, which were sticking up out of the black backpack at Alexei’s feet. Besides, even without our artifacts, Vivian would have been perfectly happy to kill me, and I felt the exact same way about her. But I kept my mouth shut. I knew Alexei and the rest of my friends were trying to go about their days and lives as though everything was normal, the way they always did, as though we weren’t in danger of being attacked and slaughtered at any second. So I decided to stay quiet and let him keep the illusion— even if I knew exactly what a thin, pitiful smokescreen it really was.
“My boy’s right,” Sergei chimed in, his hazel eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. “At the very least, the Reapers will need some time to lick their wounds. Linus and Inari are down in the academy prison right now, questioning the ones we captured yesterday after the attack. After that, the Reapers will be shipped to a more secure facility.”
I wished I had their confidence, but I didn’t—I just didn’t. I didn’t see the future like Grandma Frost did, but I couldn’t help feeling that time was running out to find a way to kill Loki. The silver laurel bracelet, Sol’s candle, all the other artifacts that Logan and the Protectorate had recovered from the ski lodge up in New York. There were too many powerful things floating around out there, and too much of a sense of the centuries-long conflict between the Reapers and the Protectorate finally building to its ultimate conclusion for me to relax. Not now.
Not until Loki was dead—or I was.
Still, I made myself smile at both the father and son, hiding my turbulent thoughts from them as best as I could. “You’re probably right.”
We rode in silence the rest of the way down the mountain. Grandma Frost lived in a three-story, lavender-painted home near downtown Asheville, among other similar houses that had been cut up into apartments. Sergei pulled up to the curb and parked in front of the house. Aiko was sitting on the porch reading a comic book, her gray Protectorate robe draped around her slender body like a winter cloak to help ward off the chill of the day. Two more Protectorate guards stood down the street at the bus stop, wearing gray leather jackets instead of their usual robes. I supposed they were trying to blend in and look casual, although they weren’t succeeding, since they still looked exactly like the tough warriors they were.
Sergei’s phone chirped, and he picked it up from the console and stared at the message on the screen. “Linus needs me at the academy. I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave you two here for a little while.”
“We can always take the bus back,” I said. “You don’t need to drive all the way back down here just to pick us up. Even I don’t think that the Reapers would be bold enough to highjack a bus full of regular mortals who don’t know anything about the mythological world.” Sergei shook his head. “You’re probably right, but it’s better not to take the chance, Gwen. If I haven’t returned by the time you want to leave, tell Aiko or one of the other guards, and they’ll drive you and Alexei back
to the academy. Okay?”
I wanted to point out that riding the bus would have been far more anonymous than cruising around in an SUV right out of some spy movie, but I kept my thoughts to myself. “Yeah. Okay.”
I woke Nyx up from her nap, and we got out of the car, along with Alexei, waved good-bye to Sergei, and trooped up the gray steps to the house. A bronze plaque beside the front door read Psychic Readings Here since Grandma Frost used her Gypsy gift to tell people’s fortunes and make a little extra cash. Alexei stayed on the porch to talk to Aiko, but I opened the door and went inside the house.
“Pumpkin?” Grandma called out. “Back here in the kitchen.”
I grinned. Thanks to her ability to see the future, Grandma always seemed to know when I was coming over. Nyx let out a happy growl and strained on the end of her leash, ready to run forward, since she loved Grandma as much as I did. I walked through the living room, down the hallway, and into the kitchen, which was my favorite room in the house with its white-tile floor and sky-blue walls.
Grandma Frost was dressed in her usual Gypsy gear— a purple silk shirt, black pants, and black shoes with toes that curled up slightly. Rings studded with various gemstones glinted on her fingers, while a green scarf was knotted loosely around her throat, the silver coinfringed ends trailing down her chest.
She stood in front of the stove, clutching a couple of gray oven mitts. A timer tick-tick-ticked on one side of the counter, next to a jar shaped like a giant chocolate chip cookie.
I drew in a deep breath, enjoying the scents of butter, sugar, and melted chocolate that filled the air, along with a hint of spicy cinnamon and sweet vanilla swirled together. My stomach rumbled in anticipation.
“What smells so good?”
“Cookies,” she replied, her face crinkling into a smile. “Chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, and sugar cookies. I thought that you and Alexei might like a snack, and I made enough for you to take some back to Daphne too.”
Daphne loved Grandma’s sweet treats as much as I did, and I always had to fight her off for the last cookie. Logan too. But I didn’t mind sharing with them. Too much.
The timer dinged, and Grandma Frost pulled the trays of cookies out of the oven. A blast of heat filled the kitchen, adding to the cozy atmosphere. We sat at the table, eating cookies and drinking glasses of cold milk, while Nyx plopped down on her tummy and gave us sad, mournful looks, wanting us to share our food with her.
Despite everything that was going on, I felt myself slowly relaxing. I hadn’t been over to Grandma’s much lately, not with all the problems of the past few weeks, and it felt good to sit here and share this quiet time with her.
Even if I knew it wouldn’t last—and that Vivian and Agrona were probably plotting some way to steal the candle right now.
The thought soured my good mood. I finished the rest of my chocolate chip cookie, but I had a hard time choking down the sudden, hard lump in my throat that fear and worry left behind.
“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” Grandma asked, picking up on my unease.
There was no use trying to hide anything from her, so I drew in a breath and told her everything that had happened since the Reaper attack yesterday, including the fact that Linus had put the candle on view for everyone at the academy to see—Reapers included.